Torture
by gods sent angel
Summary: First person reflection from Remus on himself, the wolf, and Sirius. RxS, angsty, but nothing serious har har


Twenty years ago, there was a voice inside my head. It spoke to me in words only I understood, and when I told my parents it became clear that they were neither words nor commonly acceptable noises. My mother would disolve to the point of near tears whenever I uttered them and my father would look pained. It was then that I realized my imaginary best friend was also the plague I so dreaded every month.

I no longer heard the voice in my head.

Fifteen years ago, there was a song in my heart. It shamed me a little to admit, and yet even the faintest strain of it filled me with indescribable euphoria. A sight, a touch, a word; anything could evolk that magical feeling I craved and cherished. And all of it for you, only you. It was taboo, unheard of, weird. So I never told you. But somehow you found out, all the same, and to my shock you felt it, too.

Then the moon came and we howled. Together we howled a beautiful song to the moon, and I realized that the song in my heart was not a heavenly ballad of the soul, but the lonely call of a monster.

I no longer heard the song in my heart.

Twelve years ago, there was a problem with my heart. It stopped beating.

Eleven years ago it started again, but the pain never left.

Ten years ago, there was a problem with my mind. It started as a restless feeling, a need to move; to where I was unsure. Pacing and twitching became to frequent activities for me. Soon it progressed to delusions. I would hear sounds that made me jump in anticipation of something unknown, sounds only I could hear because they were not real. A door would open while I was at the park, some one would laugh or call my name when I was all alone. A dog would whimper and scratch at the door.

The last frightened me the most. The dog, was it me or was it you? Was it just a random noise like the rest?

The whimpering turned into whines and moans the longer I tried to ignore it. Soon yips and growls joined the chorus. Worse, they began to underly everything. Every sound I heard carried the undertones of a canine noise. Then the pain in my heart began to grow again. I almost feared for my health, or worse, my sanity, until it began to howl.

And then I knew.

Ten years ago, the voice in my head returned. Ten years ago, the song in my heart sang loud and clear once more, but it had changed. Or rather, there was a new element above its chords. I tried to tell myself you were guilty, that I hated you. I tried to live without you, but ten years ago, the wolf returned like he was before. No, I did not begin mutilating my self every month, but the walls that held me were never enough anymore. The voice of the wolf cried to me, pleaded with me. It was pitiful, and I was sad for it. It begged and it questioned, and always of you. Where were you? Why could it not feel you? Find you? Why could it not go to you, when it was sure you needed it. You were weak, but it was strong and it would protect you.

I lied when I said I no longer self mutilated. Once, when I refused in my transformed state, the beast which held sway of my physical body bit me. It wrangled me like it would any pray it meant to kill, and when I tried to explain what you had done, it refused to believe me. It raged at me, damaging its and my body even worse for speaking against you, our mate. It did not believe you could have hurt James, and, it told me in no uncertain terms, that even if you had, you were our mate and we stood by you.

Now, the wolf inside is speaking to me, every second of every day. I have learned to speak with it and still go about my life, or to ignore it, though the latter is most unwise. Worse yet, the song in my heart is painfully loud. These corridors, these rooms; everything about this place draws the strings more noticably than before. While I have no fear that these brick walls could not hold my horrendous form in check, I still take every precaution I can. The wolf is not a threat to humans as it used to be, now only those who stand before it. I know this because it got loose once, right before I returned to teach here. I was terrified of what it would do, but it refused to listen to me and return to a sheltered place. It stayed clear of civilization as well, though. It was searching for something, and no amount of food or sport would deter it.

It was looking for you.

The next day on the news it was reported you had escaped. I knew that was where it was taking me, to you. I only barely convinced it you would come to it. But it knows you will, because every day it feels you drawing closer. Oh yes, I know where you are. The wolf tells me, constantly. It is like an excited child counting the days to Christmas. It told me you were near Privet Drive, though you were long gone by the time I got there, and it tells me as you travel closer.

Yes, now the wolf is waiting.

The voice is once again my most trusted friend.

The song is once again distracting my thoughts.

The wolf that is me is waiting.

Only for you. 


End file.
